Darkness Falls

[Otterling]

Di’Shan’s muscles burned with the exertion of keeping his head firmly attached to his shoulders. His arms worked furiously to fend off blow after blow from the healer who was successfully driving him backward. The Sith turned his thoughts to the Force, calling it to him to aid his movements. He would need to be totally focused on the fight if he was to keep the healer at bay long enough to get Jacen over to help and as he reached out to the energy around him, he felt it answer his call like a lover. The cries of the wounded, the despair of the dying, the fear and anger of the Sith troops, the mixed emotions of the younger less experienced Jedi; they all came rushing at him in a cocktail of pure venom that seeped into his veins and bolstered him. So much hate, so much malice, he could feel the shift, the chaos of a much more powerful Sith as he sped past their battle on his way to the summit of the mountain. It stirred the Force into a tumultuous sea of churning emotions and Di’Shan drank it in like a drowning man gulping for air.

It was this connection amidst the chaos that warned him only a few brief moments before a wall of sharp ice flew at him. The healer had flipped away to avoid his own handiwork leaving Di’Shan to deal with the mess. His blade spun furiously in front of him, slicing and melting the ice barrage, and he dropped expertly to his knees, bending sharply backward so that what his saber didn’t destroy would pass harmlessly over him. Had the healer or any other Jedi been closer to him, it would have left him in a very vulnerable position, but the Force was with him so far and the worst consequence of the moment had been the pelting of cold water and trickles of shattered ice that spattered across his face as the icicles melted before his saber. He sat up quickly and used the powerful muscles in his legs to pop back to his feet, his eyes quickly scanning the area to locate the healer. The Force once more screamed at him and even though he wasn’t looking at the Jedi, he could see the bright flare of light from the corner of his vision and instinctively closed his eyes anyway.

“Behold the Light!”

For the briefest of instances, Di’Shan felt his connection to the Force waver uncertainly. The air around him felt lighter all of a sudden, like a warm spring day instead of the blustering cold of a mountaintop and he pulled away from the feeling with a measure of sharp distaste. The healer was powerful…truly powerful if he could wield the light in such a manner. Di’Shan could hear the screams of his comrades, could hear the loud crack that seemed to echo all around the courtyard. In the next moment, it was over and Di’Shan turned in time to see the heads of four Sith roll from their shoulders to bounce gruesomely across the blanket of snow. The healer had just slaughtered four other Sith in the space of a heartbeat. They weren’t as strong, nor as fast, as Di’Shan but they weren’t inept either. It was a testament of the Jedi’s skill that he could kill so quickly and with such efficiency. Oh how wonderful a Sith he would make if only he could be turned. As Di’Shan’s eyes met the fierce green ones turned back in his direction though, he knew such a task would be nigh impossible at best. This Jedi wasn’t suffering any doubts that the Twi’lek could feel and if he could wield Light like a weapon, it would be doubtful he’d turn no matter the pain.

Di’Shan readied himself and took a few steps back in preparation to begin his struggle again. The moment of respite had been a welcome one but would be short lived he knew. Suddenly Jacen was there and Di’Shan watched the healer keenly. His reaction was a mixture of sorrow and grim determination. It wasn’t quite what Di’Shan had hoped for but it was pleasant enough just to know that tonight, if the healer lived, he would spend his night thinking of the fallen, both figuratively and literally. There was no fear in the Jedi though as he stepped away from Di’Shan to give himself the ability to deal with both opponents. While neither of them would be sufficient alone to kill the man, together they stood a fair chance. Di’Shan watched with keen interest as the healer’s eyes turned to another presence nearby and the Sith allowed himself to look over and see who it was the man was apparently communicating with in silent message.

Another Jedi stood nearby, his face conflicted as he heard whatever it was that the healer was saying to him. He was a young knight whose presence, while strong, was not anywhere near as powerful as the healer’s. He was a handsome young man from what Di’Shan could make out amidst the bundled clothing and he wielded two sabers of his own. The healer’s mind brushed against his own and the Sith turned his attentions back where they were needed more. He reached out to the Force and for a brief moment, he felt the flicker of something dark heading their way. Something powerful. A smile spilt Di’Shan’s face and he chuckled darkly. There was a Sith of great strength coming and he knew that even if he fell this day, the healer would likely not be seeing another sunrise after all.

“Your move, filth.”

Di’Shan nodded at Jacen and began to circle to the healer’s side, effectively trapping him between the two Sith in a way that would force him to swing hard between the two of them. It would push the Jedi as much as was possible. “Do you feel it?” he hissed over the cries all around him, his voice projected across to his opponent on the Force as much as with his voice, “Your death is at hand, healer. Look around…how many Jedi will perish this day? How many will die because you failed to protect them?” Behind him, Di’Shan felt the presence of the younger Jedi as he began heading in their direction. Apparently the young man had no intentions of following whatever request the healer had made of him. His conflict and subsequent determination signaled that he was likely disobeying whatever the healer had said. “Looks like your pet doesn’t know when to listen,” Di’Shan chuckled, “Would you like to watch him die?” The last word was paired with a furious series of blows aimed at the healer. Di’Shan knew that few if any at all would land but his goal was to press the Jedi hard enough that Jacen might stand a chance of landing a killing blow.

[Twysper]

Time was fleeting; here today, gone tomorrow. It was a fact. Hard and concrete and actual. One did not ever have control over the length of time allotted them, merely the use of what was given.

Ekerin intended to extend that time past today though. Newly turned thirteen and determined, his quick strides were accented with apprehensive, pent-up energy as he followed his master down the hallway. The Amaran did not believe in being guided blindly, but Sellah's consistently frank method of handling matters had inspired his trust. Thus, the decision to join the blades had been made with his knowledge, and he had also deemed it the right course of action.

So here they were.

Large pointed ears caught the low auditory stimuli resonating through the stones of the temple walls itself, echoing the chill. It was a tone that set Ekerin on edge, with good reason, for his master felt it too, and paused accordingly. He nodded solemnly up at Sellah as she inquired of his hearing, and then she rested a clawed paw on his white-cloaked shoulder. Immediately, there was a link of empathy between the two, dark blue eyes rising to meet golden brown as Sellah reverently spoke to him. Even now, on the razor edge of time before a battle, she was still teaching him. If they both lived through this, he would have to thank the council for assigning her to be his master.

Ekerin was a naturally lithe being, given towards agility and manipulation rather than outright strength. Warm russet shaded fur ran along his spine and radiated outwards towards his extremities, fading to white on the underside of his arms and chest in long stripes. It served him well as an extra level of insulation, and combined with his cloak and willpower, the cold did not bother him. Sharply pointed claws edged his fingers, and salient canine teeth filled his tapered muzzle. His shoulders were draped over with a brown cloak and the snow-white tip of his tail, hindered from anxious flicking by the insulating fabric, skimmed along the rough ground of the tunnel.

The ground and air around the group of jedi trembled violently. Small disturbances in the chill of deadened air sent rippling shockwaves to blow through Ekerin’s cloak like a tempest. Levin’s speech made him shiver in realization again; this was real, there would be no second chance if he were to fall. It was a sobering thought.

Even so, the corner of his muzzle twitched upward wryly at Sellah as Grek scurried down onto his own shoulder. Ekerin had been mildly offended when the tiny Laigrek had tried to maul him upon original introduction, but after that bump in their relationship, he had begun to enjoy the predatory insect’s presence. Partially because the little chirping noises it made were pleasant to his hearing. Partially because the scaled Laigrek was fiercely loyal to himself and Sellah, to a fault.

As Grek coolly regarded the Amaran with his multiple blood-red eyes, Ekerin reached up absently to carefully stroke the Laigrek’s back. He imagined it comforted them both, but truly, it was mostly for the padawan’s benefit as he listened to his master’s words. His other hand dropped to the hilt of his lightsaber, and Ekerin shifted his weight, starting to gather the Force close to himself preemptively.

“As you say Master, I will listen.” The Amaran dipped his head respectfully when Sellah’s advice was stored in his mind, slightly rueful that he was not to follow her. “I understand the situation.” But he also knew Sellah to be a practical and frank being. Ekerin closed his eyes for a moment and calmed himself. If it was truly out of his depth, then he would not have anything to gain by following her. Sellah knew what she was doing; of this he had infinite faith. The time would come when he was not considered a liability anymore, heart and mind insisted on the fact.

He would survive this.

“Force preserve us all.” Ekerin muttered lowly as the foundations of the temple were deafeningly shaken by Sith ordinance. His lightsaber was shakily retrieved with a motion the thirteen year old had practiced hundreds upon hundreds of times, but was now severely different. He meant to kill today. He suspected he would have to. He did not relish the prospect. As he watched his master bound forwards, the Amaran was again tempted to follow her for a fleeting moment. That was before his common sense started chastising him. Ekerin relented and pushed out towards the left flank of the Jedi line, igniting his emerald-green bladed lightsaber. The Sith would target the temple entrance, this he was sure of, even as a blaster bolt burned through the air towards him. With an ease born of practice, the padawan smoothly deflected it back towards the growing Sith lines as other Jedi knights moved past him, mopping up further incoming blaster fire with their own sabers.

“So far so good, eh Grek?” The albino Laigrek dug its long scythe-like appendages into Ekerin’s shoulder to steady itself as the padawan started to anxiously bounce on his paws, practically hugging the wall of the courtyard as his ears stood at a ninety degree angle to his head. A few more moments of basking in the pocket of serene calm behind Jedi lines passed for him.

Listen… Focus… Listen.

There.

Ekerin felt a Sith initiate’s presence quickly moving towards an occupied Jedi knight; heard the soft crunch of their charcoal boots in the disturbed snow, the low, menacing, barely audible sneer under their breath. He launched himself forward, utilizing pent-up energy and the Force to fuel his progress. He did not stop when the Sith turned to face him, rather, he feinted continuing his path of direct contact and then went into a rushing slide tackle off to the side on the snow, green lightsaber slashing through the man’s feet as the Amaran slid cleanly by on his cloak. Before his momentum had died out, Ekerin was back on his paws again and loping back for a second pass. He avoided looking at the Initiate’s face as he batted away the crimson lightsaber stubbornly held in defense and plunged his own green blade through the black-cloaked torso.

First one…

Time that would’ve been spent reflecting on killing was stolen from the padawan as he was suddenly hard-pressed to defend himself from a vengeful eighteen year old initiate markedly using Makashi. Ekerin made sure to play to Ataru’s strengths and Makashi’s weaknesses, refusing to stay in a straight line of attack or defense for any length of time, flitting back and forth on the snow until he had the opportunity to lock blades with the initiate. Ekerin’s claws dug into the ground in search of leverage as his forest green blade was withered by burning red, distance between the two struggling combatants closing gradually as the Amaran was forced down. Then, with little warning, Grek suddenly lunged out from behind Ekerin’s hood and leapt onto the Sith’s face, scratching and biting furiously. Which was exactly what the foxy padawan was counting on.

The Amaran immediately took advantage of his opponent’s confusion and impaled the initiate with his lightsaber quickly, ending his thrashing before he could hurt Grek. He stopped only to retrieve the bloodthirsty Laigrek from the cooling corpse before craning his neck to reassess the situation.

His duel had moved him farther into the thick of the battle then he would’ve preferred; he saw older Sith everywhere, quite thankfully though all in the immediate vicinity were currently engaged with Jedi. Ekerin beat a hasty retreat through the forest of twisting bodies and scything lightsaber blades, heavily exhaling a cloud of moist air into the frigid climate as he finally reached the wall again. Another tremor spiked through the temple’s foundation; Ekerin started to edge backwards towards the temple entrance, ocean-blue eyes scanning for master Sellah’s golden tan form among the chaos.

[Dutch]

As the Twi'lek spoke, Levin's eyes bored into his. The fiend was trying to taunt him, to upset him. One did not get to be where Knight-Healer Levin Caelum was by being easily swayed by words. His senses rapidly searched and locked onto the people around him, wary to make a link with any Darksiders, he just made sure he was aware of them.

"Death is only the beginning, Sith."

The words slid out of his mouth so naturally, so fluidly, it was like a simple exhale. Chances are it would drive the two Sith up a wall, if there was one thing the enemy hated, it was a zealot. But the attack resumed, and Lev quickly switched his stance to a blend of Niman and Makashi, still held in one hand was the silver blade. The whirlwind of red that stormed towards Levin would be dodged and blocked, but a couple glancing blows landed on the Jedi. They cut clean, but not deep, thin black lines slices through his coat and into flesh. The pungent but sadly familiar smell of cooked flesh wafted from Lev, but he couldn't focus on healing, those would have to scar.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Silver met with red repeatedly, sparks and squeals of lightsabers locking and bouncing off one another was all Lev could see her hear at this point. He gave himself to the Force completely, the power moved his body and timed his blocks, but even as fast as Levin was, not every attack could be blocked. A slice to his right thigh, a stab that grazed his side, a bit of skin shaved off his shoulder. The barrage of attacks from the Sith were indeed slowly chipping away at Levin, but he had faith. As he backpedaled, his senses told him they were nearing a particularly large, spider webbed crack in the courtyard.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

A few more steps, that's all he needed, let them think they had him running. A particularly harsh gust of wind roared down into the courtyard. It spat and hissed, crackled of the Force in combat with itself. But Levin kept his mind even, despite the multitude of trivial wounds, and the death that blanketed the area. What had once been a place of peace had become a full blow battle field, and the Jedi had the low ground. Another blow whizzed right past Levin's face, and a quick duck stopped him from being beheaded. He needed to break from these Sith soon, he was getting sloppy.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

Finally, he was there. Under the thick fluffy blanket of snow was the cracks, a well placed force could crack it, maybe even cave it in, give Levin the chance to escape and center himself. The Force was drawn deep into Levin, but held there- he wanted the Sith to think he was just using it to keep him moving. But the facts were, it was used for that as well, he was getting tired, his style was fast and hard, this dull, slow, wearing down combat was working on him. As soon as a brief moment where both attacker's lightsabers had moved away from him, Levin cried out and forced his free hand down with a mighty push with the Force. A massive Crack! sounded as the stone shattered, and Levin used that last bit of Force in him to propel away from them, he just hoped that Gabriel hadn't been caught in the attack as well. Levin landed and rolled on the ground about twenty feet from the small crater he had made, but was quickly on his feet. His eyes scanned for the attackers, but were diverted as the vile, dark presence from earlier became more apparent. All around him Jedi and Sith clashed, it was apparent they were very outnumbered more so than before. The few that remained were either the best of the Order, or just blessed by the Force.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

Levin turned and looked around, the darkness was so prevalent, he couldn't sense anywhere outside the courtyard. For all he knew, Rhissai and Locke had been killed, along with the other Jedi he had learned to call 'friend'. And by the ominous, enigmatic presence that still descended upon the Temple, Levin could tell things were only going to get worse. A shaky exhale came from him, a puff of warm air rose into the snowy air.

"There is no death, there is the Force..."

[WWFF]

Gabriel’s powerful legs propelled him forward unaided by the force. He watched as the attack on the healer commenced; piercing eyes narrowing as he willed his legs to push harder and faster as to aid his brother Jedi. His feet left shallow pits in the layered ice and snow with each agile foot fall, concentrating only on making it to the healer in time… Unfortunately for the young Jedi he allowed his senses to become tunneled.

He was caught off guard by the hooked pommel of a red light saber. The animal claw base of the hilt managed to cut into his cheek bone while the force knocked him hard onto his back forcing the wind from his body and causing him to release his sabers. With a cough and quick reflexes he managed to roll onto his stomach narrowly dodging a slash at his defenseless form; the red saber leaving a long melted trench where his body had been moments before.

His mind was a blur of frenzied instinct as he gathered his feet under his body, only to have them knocked from under him by a telekinetic grab and pull. Again he found himself on his stomach, this time however his instincts worked to his favor; he rolled to his back, shoving out with his right hand forcing a small wave of force from his palm, while his left summoned his sabers, sending his opponent back into an aerial flip. Both shiny hilts caught and clenched in his left hand as he scrambled to stand once more, placing one saber in his right hand and igniting both in a united snap-hiss and a small blur of orange sliding around his form as he brought himself into Jar-Kai readied position.

His red sobered opponent was on him in an instant, the two becoming a whirlwind of red and orange amongst the snow. Each attack expertly blocked by both parties, as the other tried desperately to land even a glancing blow. The Irodonian Sith lounged forward hoping for a winning stab at the young human’s torso, while the young human blocked right and slashed left at the attacker’s head, hoping to send the attacker toppling headless to the snow; though neither were successful in their attempt at the other’s life. Again the two began battering away at the other, though both of their aggressive approaches to the duel seemed to keep them stationary, only moving a few feet one way, and a couple the other; constant flux in who had the upper hand.

The Iridonian began drawing strength from the Darkside as he became frustrated with the young human’s relentless and persistent unwillingness to simply open his defenses and die. Gabriel was caught partially off guard by the quick push of force which shoved him backward leaving two shallow trenches where his feet dug into the snow to maintain his defensive posture. When he felt the force leave his form, he pushed hard from him legs forcing his body into the air and a quick spiral left, leaving his arms open and trailing to build up power as he landed and brought his left across in a horizontal slash, pushing the Sith off balance as he brought his right in from the other side only to hand it blocked by the red saber, the force of which shoved the Sith even more off balance.

Gabriel found his moment of opportunity. He ducked a wild swing from the now frightened Sith, and clenched his fists. The duel was over as Gabriel unleashed the powerful combination of attacks: he pushed out with both fists allowing a powerful wave of force energy to lift and push the Sith, causing him to soar backward, as his left hand launched his saber to follow the flying Sith. It found its mark in the Sith’s chest before the body his the Snow. Gabriel shot his left hand out, summoning his saber back to his hand.

The orange saber flipped back to his palm as the young Jedi winced as the cold snow lashed his wound; the icy weather had frozen the trickle of blood which had begun to make its way down his cheek. Dawning struck the young man as he remembered what his original goal had been; panic ensued on the young man and he glanced around to try and find the silver sobered Healer, though in the end it was the flux of lightside power being drawn upon by the healer which allowed Gabriel to pinpoint his location.

He shot off as the image of the healer being viciously attacked by the blur of red, which clashed with silver. He shoved off once more, both sabers blazing as he willed the force into his legs increasing their power enough to push himself into a full steam run. His feet crunched in the snow with each step, as his legs burned with the exertion running and the bite of the cold.

He was nearing his destination, when (with out warning) the healer disappeared in flash of force power; the loud sound of cracking stone and ice filled the air as Gabriel came to a sliding stop merely meters from the two Sith.

“Perhaps…” He thought as he stared at the backs of the two. “I should’ve listened to the healer…” He swallowed hard and allowed a puff of condensation from his mouth as he slowly crouched into a readied Jar-Kai stance. It was far too late for him to back down from this fight… he just prayed that the force would be with him enough to handle what ever came next.

[Otterling]

((NOTE: The actions of Di'Shan have been approved by WWFF. We've worked all this out ahead of time so don't worry, I'm not godmodding. I just have permission to put a hurting on poor Gabriel. XD))

Di’Shan sighed and, had he been allotted the time to do so, would have rolled his eyes at the healer’s words to him. There was nothing more boring than someone who wouldn’t be baited. He could usually appreciate a good zealot, they tended to be quite fun once you wound them up, but this one was refusing to play the game. Now Cho Wroth, the Noghri Sith, was a good zealot. All it took was a few well placed words to get that one practically foaming at the mouth and that was just plain entertaining but the Jedi Di’Shan now faced was far too stoic for such things and he was quickly becoming irritating. As much as he was a paragon of the light and all that, he wasn’t doing much to keep Di’Shan amused, a fact which was sorely testing the Sith’s patience. He did so hate when his victims refused to play with him. He snorted in obvious derision as he brought his saber down again and again in a whirling dance against the Jedi. “Then a lot of your people will be getting a fresh start today,” he growled in response to the healer’s words.

His statement was punctuated by a series of twists, thrusts, and slices all aimed at finally ridding himself of the Jedi and while most were blocked by the swift silver blade the healer was wielding, a few blows had come close enough to fill the air around them with the acrid smoke of burning cloth. Between himself and Jacen, Di’Shan knew they would wear their prey down until he finally made some fatal error that would spell his downfall for while he was a truly powerful fighter, he could not hold for too long against the sheer hatred and drive of two Sith at once. It would be a glorious kill indeed and he hoped it was his blade that would make the final strike. On and on the dance went with the Jedi admittedly doing himself a great credit with how well he was holding out considering his circumstances. Any other Jedi on that field would have more than likely fallen under the vicious attack mounted on two fronts against them but while the healer was losing ground rapidly, he was still drawing breath and that alone was a testament to his skill.

Di’Shan watched the Jedi’s face carefully, mesmerized by the resolve and determination there and the silver and red light of the sabers reflected in eyes so green they were almost unnatural. If only those eyes had held the proper amount of terror it would have been enough to fill Di’Shan’s desire but as it was, he had to admit the strange intoxication of watching this noble being fighting to his last breath. There was a tremendous amount of strength in the Jedi, something Di’Shan could respect, and he decided that special attention would have to be paid to the desecration of this one’s body upon his fall. It was the least Di’Shan could do for such a worthy adversary. He would want those who came upon this battlefield to weep at the sight of what would be left of their virtuous healer. Again and again the sabers blazed before them in a humming rhythm of life and death and with Jacen pressing the attack from the opposite side, Di’Shan was able to allow himself some breathing room. He had been hard pressed only moments before to simply survive the healer’s attacks but now the tables had turned. The Force was with the Sith that day. The smell of burnt flesh reached through the cloth covering Di’Shan’s nose as his saber seared across the Jedi’s shoulder in an attack from on high that the man had only just barely deflected. He was getting tired; Di’Shan could see that. Soon one of the them would be able to catch the Jedi off guard, to slip past that silver saber for a more definitive blow and he wondered if the Force itself would weep as the healer fell for surely this one was loved by the light. His death would be a great boon to the Dark Side and the Sith remaining on the battlefield.

So caught up in his pursuit was Di’Shan that he barely registered the warning that pulsed through the Force only moments before the healer’s cry. The ground below him trembled for a half a heartbeat before it shattered downward in a display of power that left the Twi’lek twisting and leaping away just to keep from getting caught in it; his earlier pursuit of the healer was momentarily forgotten in favor of staying in one piece. He called on the Force to propel himself up and into a backflip that landed him just on the terminus of the crater the healer had just created. He pin-wheeled his arms for a moment to keep his balance as his toes hung over the lip before finally stumbling back a few steps and regaining his composure. To say the move had been unexpected would be an understatement and a seething rage boiled in the Twi’lek for a few brief seconds with an intensity that seemed to char the air around him. That was not playing the game. The Jedi had been losing. He had been so close to falling under the blades of his adversaries and he was supposed to die an honorable if pointless death out on the snow, not run off just when things were getting interesting. He. Wasn’t. Playing. The. Game. Di’Shan gritted his teeth and snarled as he looked around the field to try and find his quarry once more but the healer had seemingly vanished into the tumult of the battle and it was impossible to locate him again among the throng of writhing bodies and whirling sabers.

Di’Shan was about to start hunting through the crowd to find his lost prey when a new Force signature suddenly materialized behind him. This one Di’Shan recognized as the young knight the healer had spoken to earlier and though he hadn’t heard the words, he had recognized the all too obvious emotions that had swept across the faces of both Jedi in the exchange. The healer had intended to keep this one out of trouble and that alone was enough reason for Di’Shan to want to kill him. If the healer wouldn’t play the game, then perhaps this one would. Di’Shan turned his head slowly and peered back over his shoulder, hatred and obvious irritation written in the piercing golden eye that fixed on the young knight behind him. There was a moment of tension, of pause as if the Force itself held its breath, and then Di’Shan was in motion. He struck out as fast as any serpent, spinning on his heel and charging for the Jedi Knight with a speed and ferocity greater than even that unleashed against the healer. He ducked in low, as if to charge headlong into his opponent, and at the last moment kicked off hard, propelling himself up and over to land on the Jedi’s other side. His boots had no sooner touched the snow before his saber was spinning before him in a blur locking up with the Jedi’s for a brief instant before he was gone again, ducking to the Jedi’s right and trying once again to gain his back.

This time, Di’Shan wasn’t pulling any blows and he rained his frustration and anger down on the Jedi, letting out his irritation at having lost his earlier quarry. His saber blows were met and blocked by the twin orange blades of this new Jedi but Di’Shan feinted up high as if to strike from above and as soon as the Jedi lifted his sabers to block, Di’Shan aimed a well placed, Force enhanced kick at his chest. The impact was solid and Di’Shan felt it vibrate up his calf as the Jedi was slammed backward toward the opening to the Temple. A second young knight rushed in behind Di’Shan in an attempt to help only to find that the Sith was not to be caught off guard a second time. Such was his determination to slay the young man before him that he barely gave the second knight much thought as he dropped low and spun unexpectedly, bringing his saber around in an arc and catching the unfortunate knight along one ankle. The young woman hadn’t jumped in time and while she might have survived the wound to her leg, her fate was sealed the instant she fell to the ground. Her body hadn’t even had time to melt the snow beneath her before Di’Shan plunged his saber through her chest. He didn’t stop to savor the look of horror and shock on her face as she died though, as he normally would have. Instead, he whirled back around to seek out the young man he had kicked only a moment ago. He was NOT going to lose another prey today.

The young Jedi was close to the Temple opening and was barely back on his feet before Di’Shan was on him once more. His saber was little more than a blurred arc of red as he slammed against the Jedi’s defenses in an attempt to take him off guard with the sheer ferocity of his attack. Another Force shove sent the knight further into the hall of the Temple, slamming him bodily against a wall, and in the same instant Di’Shan was back within arm’s reach. He deactivated one end of his saber and slammed the hilt of it against the side of the Jedi’s head, reveling in the hard crack it made upon impact. His right hand shot forward, releasing his saber to his left for a moment and he dug his fingers into the outer tunic of the Jedi’s robes, wrenching the man forward and directly into Di’Shan’s waiting knee. He slammed his leg up into the Jedi’s gut and then tossed him to the side. Finally, Di’Shan stopped for a brief moment and took a few slow steps toward the young knight, his saber reactivating with a snap-hiss as he stalked closer. “Tell me your name, Jedi,” he whispered in a low growl, “tell me your name so I might sing it to your healer as he dies. I want him to know who he failed to save…”

((This fight between Gabe and Di'Shan will now break off into a new thread.))

[dorrin]

Dorrin mentally cursed as he furiously moved to block the flurry of attacks launched by Locke. He was stronger than Locke, but the man was devilishly quick and it took all of Dorrin’s concentration to keep Locke from being able to use his speed to land a blow. He was caught by the force push that Locke through at him, but luckily there was no wall near him so he was able to recover quickly on his feet.

“You wouldn’t abandon me?” Dorrin snarled as he moved back towards Locke. “You think that the Jedi left me simply because they didn’t know what I was missing instead of dead? Well let’s think about this my naïve friend.”

Dorrin slowly began to stalk Locke, circling around him though ready for any sudden move on Locke’s part. The larger battle was almost forgotten in the midst of this smaller war, as Locke battled for Dorrin’s redemption while Dorrin began to try and get Locke to accompany him on his fall. The smart thing for Locke would be to attack Dorrin now, press the advantage. But Dorrin had a feeling that Locke wanted to hear what Dorrin had to say; that he wanted to understand.

“I suppose we can ignore for a second that the Jedi Council is supposed to be composed of the most wise and powerful Jedi of the age. That with their combined power you would think that they would have felt my death through the force, and that the lack of such a sign meant that I was still a sign. You would think that all my rage, my grief, my despair, and even my hopelessness would be felt by them. Let’s ignore that, after all…they’re only Jedi!”

Dorrin began to reduce the radius of the circle that he was walking around Locke. Maneuvering his way to get closer and closer, but there would be no attack until his story was told.

“The Jedi are supposed to be the greatest investigator’s in the universe. A rich socialite with political connections murdered, a well-regarded jedi team gone…you would think that the best the order had would have been sent out. I checked when I finally escaped a year later; I hired a team of regular detectives and had them go to the planet. Do you want to know what it was that they found out? Because this, more than anything, was what made me hate the order that I previously considered…my family.”
Dorrin stopped circling around Locke and instead stood directly in front of him. The two combatants were close enough that their lightsabers could reach each other with ease, and Dorrin stared directly into Locke’s eyes .

“Ten days,” Dorrin said his voice thick with the pain of betrayal, “the team they sent to investigate was on the job for ten days before they called it quits. Oh they tried, but you see they were stonewalled. The socialites’ connections were too powerful, and they didn’t want to talk. Legally the jedi couldn’t make them, and they simply had no other leads. Officially it lasted for half a year, but they gave up in ten days. If…Locke had it been any of you I would have broken down the doors of every politician on Coruscant till I figured out what happened, and if that meant going through every security team money could buy so be it. But no one was willing to do that for me. Because of legalities. Because the Jedi care more about being right, and not beating in anyone’s head rather than finding one of their own.”

Dorrin closes his eyes as painful memories threaten to overwhelm him.

“You want to know why I joined the Sith Locke? Because if I’m ever captured, being part of their order won’t give me false hope!”

With that Dorrin attacked. His strategy was simple, yet effective. A flurry of attacks designed to drive Locke back against the wall, then lock the lightsabers together in a clinch, which would allow Dorrin to push Locke down and disarm him using his brute strength.

[Rugs]

Locke nodded with grim satisfaction when he saw his push throw Dorrin back, though, as he expected, it didn't do much. That much was expected though. Locke and Dorrin were more or less equal in power, though they had strengths in different areas. Locke didn't want the fight to drag out, because he knew if it did, it would be a hard one. That wasn't something Locke wanted, but he'd do what he had to do; he had the feeling Dorrin wouldn't let him just slink away, anyway. The sudden boom of an explosion farther out in the courtyard reminded him of the battle that raged around him, but it was forgotten again when Dorrin began to speak.

Locke bristled a bit when Dorrin called him naive. He was arguable more world-wise than a great number of Jedi, due to the nature of his work as an Investigator, and Dorrin called him naive? He put down an irritated growl that almost sounded in his throat before it got out, and kept his eyes on Dorrin as his old friend started to move, circling around him like a predator surveying his prey. Locke wasn't fazed though. Even when Dorrin walked behind him, he did not move; he wouldn't be cowed. More than that, though, he wanted to hear what it was Dorrin had to say. "Strike him down," some small voice within him said. "Now's your chance, catch him while he's unprepared!" Locke shook his head as if he was trying to clear the voice away. No. He would not do that, not to a friend. There was still a chance that Dorrin might be redeemed, and Locke wasn't going to throw it away just yet.

So he listened instead, as the wind blew little specks of snow into his face. He stood there, battle forgotten, his yellow-orange blade glowing still as he held it by his side. His expression was intent as Dorrin's story came forth, and his thoughts were mixed. In some things, Dorrin put too much faith into the Council. But in others... Why would the Jedi sent to investigate stop after only ten days? That didn't seem right, especially to one who was an Investigator, but what had gone wrong? He'd spent months on a single case before, why would the ones sent by the Council suddenly stop after ten days? But there was not yet time to ask questions.

Locke scowled openly at Dorrin's last line, but he was in motion again, his saber an orange blur as it moved to block Dorrin's attacks. The blades wove a tapestry of orange and red between the two combatants, and Locke found himself being forced to give ground to Dorrin's onslaught. It didn't help him that his mind was racing through what Dorrin had said, looking for something to say in response to the man's angry claims of betrayal. Soon, his back was literally up against the wall, and he cursed softly for allowing himself to lose focus so easily. If he kept doing that he'd end up dead, or something of the sort. That was when Dorrin made his move.

A sudden string of attacks from the other man made things so that the two ended up with their blades locked between them, stuck in a contest of strength. Locke cursed again. He wasn't weak, but he was not at all the strongest person around; Dorrin, on the other hand was quite strong. "Dorrin, look," he said, the strain of trying to keep Dorrin's blade back plain in his voice, "the Council is strong, yes, and the members are wise, but they are not gods. They don't know everything that goes on, and you know that." His hands shook from the effort of trying to keep the two sabers away, but even so, they were starting to inch toward him. "They are men and women who are prone to mistakes, just like you and I. Don't even pretend to think that they're some all-knowing entities. You're smarter than that. But as for the investigation..." He readjusted his grip on his lightsaber, but still the blades crept onward, towards him. Suddenly, perhaps in a moment of shame, he couldn't make his eyes meet Dorrin's and he looked away, down and to the side. "I don't know what happened. I wasn't aware of the case, so I can't make any claims, but something seems wrong about that. I don't know what happened, but there was to work around being stonewalled by some asses with political connections. Trust me on that one."

His tone grew a bit more frantic as the blades continued to move toward him. "Listen Dorrin, you know things don't have to be this way. You don't have to serve the Sith. We can look into whatever happened, and see if there's any way to right it." He knew that last thing he said was a false hope; the case was so far gone that there probably wouldn't be anything to do to fix the wrongs that had been done, but he was saying anything to try to dissuade Dorrin. Locke did not want to fight this fight. "Please Dorrin," he said as his pale grey eyes snapped back to look at Dorrin's and his voice suddenly grew harder. "I don't want to kill you."

That was the truth. Dorrin was a friend still, somewhere within him, and Locke did not want to harm him. But he could only hold back for so long. At some point, he'd have to fight to kill. Locke prayed things didn't get that far, but for now he'd wait to see what Dorrin's response would be, though he knew that, for now, he was leaving himself at Dorrin's mercy.

[Jazen]

As Jazen rushed to find his master in the chaos of the battlefield, the weight of what he had just done pushed down on him. He had been fighting off the strange Sith that had tried to attack his master before when the Sith had taken advantage of a flaw in Jazen's technique to knock him back with the Force. Before Jazen had time to react, the Sith had lunged at him, intending to finish him with a final blow. The next thing Jazen knew, the sounds of lightsabers clashing filled the air. Realizing he had shut his eyes, Jazen opened them wide and was met with shock and relief. Two of his fellow Jedi had joined the fray, keeping the Sith warrior at bay.

It was at that point that Jazen felt the distress his master was in. Whoever was fighting him was causing him pain, mostly mental. The sound of lightsabers brought Jazen back to the battle in front of him. Jazen felt his heart twisting in his chest. Did he stay and help his fellow Jedi with this foe or rush to aid his master? Another surge of pain from his master made up his mind. Leaping to his feet, Jazen wiped the small trickle of blood that was slipping down his face off on his sleeve and took off. And hence, his current predicament.

Blaster fire and lightsaber's flashed all around him. Jazen suddenly realized that he was deflecting the blaster fire that came close to him. He had been so caught up in his mind that he hadn't noticed his body acting on instinct alone. He'd never done that before, nor had he seen a Jedi who could do that. Maybe the Master's or Knights, but surely not a Padawan like him. Shaking it off, Jazen focused on his task: get to his Master. But before him stood a large group of Sith soldiers, being led by a dark clad Sith warrior. The Sith spotted Jazen rushing towards them, growled, then directed the troops to open fire. Jazen connected himself to the Force, to the surroundings, to the life force of the being's in front of him. And as the first barrage of fire reached him, he brought his saber up to send those bolts right back to their masters.

[Kella]

Sellah finally found Ekerin, quickly gathering what he was up to. They locked eyes, a moment, and Sellah's golden gaze spoke a moment of sincere approval.

However, the time for such moments was next-to-none, and Sellah dove back into the combat.

Time. As is the nature of war, it is full of treachery and betrayal, but the worst betrayer of them all is time. Sometimes, it runs so fast that the wildest rivers cannot keep up with its fevered flow. Sometimes, it oozes by so slowly that each grain of sand falling through the neck of the glass takes an eternity.

And then, there are instances in which time disappears altogether.

This was one such moment.

Sellah's saber twirled and danced; she was a leaf, moving on the wind of the Force. Sounds became distorted, further apart, deeper, more resonant. The blaring din was muffled, so that only the most important of sounds stood out...

Through this rippling break in time, the Force drew her. It coaxed Sellah across the courtyard, through unnoticed snow to a fire; a blazing red blade. She leapt at the grinning black demon, and threw body and blade toward him. The fire and the forest meant, but the licking flames could not touch the pine's boughs... Duck and roll, and then back at him again, there was no hurry... there was no time...

Crack!

The Force pushed Sellah back into a temple wall, pain shuddering into the marrow of her bones. Time came flooding back in an enthusiastic cascade, as if to make up for its momentary absence, while all the sounds tumbled into her brain in a jumbled mess, their careful order caught up and beat like river rocks. It what felt like less than a heartbeat, Sellah had slumped to the ground, and the quarry now stood over her, having kicked away her saber. Slowly, Sellah compelled her muscles to override her panicking nervous system, overcoming the pain to get back up again...

Thud!

A heavy boot connected with Sellah's ribcage, tossing her body like a ragdoll into the sudden stop of a displaced column. As she attempted to pull herself back together, the figure came and stood over her again.

"Silly little Jedi," It crooned. "Thought you had your little friend the Force to save you. You were wrong." Sellah looked up at the woman, defiance in her golden eyes. They watered with current pain, the form of the woman too indistinct to make out features, but Sellah had her ears, and her snout, and--

Crack!

Another kick. This time, Sellah could feel the fracture in one of her ribs as her breathing became shallow, painful. She only had enough time to react, and her emotions were few and clear. Determination. Courage.

The daze of that first strike was not beginning to wear off, and Sellah was quickly regaining her bearings, preparing herself for the next attack.

That was the problem with all these evil sorts, they weren't smart enough to just kill the Jedi when they had the chance, they had to play with them, and that's where the Jedi always sprung back...

Why break a good pattern?

Time moved as quickly for the quarry as it did for Sellah, and so even the Dark Jedi was left with little time to react when 180 pounds of muscle collided with her. Sellah's claws dug into the woman's arms, pinning her down. Suddenly, the red fire returned, and a saber hissed close to Sellah's ear. She grabbed the woman's arm, holding it and the blade away, unable to do much more than persist at the tug-of-war...

The woman suddenly kicked over, and now Sellah found herself on the bottom, saber mere inches from her neck... And yet, she surprised the woman by working her digigrade legs into a position that would have been impossible for a human, a maneuver that was just enough to shove the woman away to the side. Sellah twisted around, taking the offensive and leaping towards her body, where it crouched in a hasty roll...

It was all over in a second. The slash of claws, the rip of fangs in flesh, the gurgle of one last gulp of air through a broken throat. Perhaps it was the Force guiding her, or perhaps Dark Jedi just got too cocky sometimes. Blood seeped bright red into the snow. What a great cost this war bore.

Sellah's course tongue licked the foul taste from her fangs, but she had no time to mourn the dues war demanded. Nor, did she have time to nurse her wounds. They were bearable, and would therefore have to wait. She found her saber closeby, near the wall where she had fallen. Snatching it up, she let the Force guide her once more.

[sparrow]

A shuttle had made it through the air battle above, moving down the height of the tower, towards an exposed balcony on one of the middle floors. They will expect relief to come from either above or below. The middle is the ideal place to strike. Elsie Therin sat cross-legged in one of the passenger seats as the shuttle made its descent, completely motionless except for her fingers. One last knot and tie, and a short strand of ribbon completed her braid, which she swung back over her shoulder to let hang behind her back. The last thing she wanted in a chaotic battle was for her vision to be obscured by the howling wind blowing her hair in front of her face.

Slowly she stood, checking the shoulder straps of the lightweight Echani armor that she wore, which fit snugly around her body, covered by her snowy white robes cut in the traditional jedi style. Her lightsaber hung at her belt, an Echani vibroblade slung across her back. Around her, the small unit of Repubic solider, numbering less than a dozen, checked their rifles and shifted about uneasily. "Idris, get ready. We'll almost there." She had been on important missions before, but never with a padawan. First time for everything. She just wished it didn't have to happen during the Order's first major battle with the Sith.

The craft slowed to hover, and the door slid open. She leaped outside, the lightsaber in her hand igniting into a beam of brilliant silver light. The soldiers followed soon after. The sounds of battle could be heard from inside the building, blaster bolts burning through the air, and clash of saber on saber. The Jedi and the Republic were slowly giving ground, but the Sith inside were about to get a nasty surprise.

[Makiro]

Idris shivered. Whether the cause of the involuntary was the frigid, snow-choked wind swirling past the speeding shuttle or his own personal apprehension, Idris could not say; he hoped, however, that it was the former. There is no emotion, there is peace. The familiar words of the Jedi’s guiding mantra offered a warm glow of comfort in the freezing air of the shuttle’s unheated cabin.

Looking back on the past few days, Idris could still not quite believe what was happening. Waking up the morning after he had first met Elsie, he had helped his new master move his few belongings – spare robes, boots, a few books – to her quarters, where he would be living from now on. They had then spent the day getting to know each other, talking and sparring and meditating, trying to get a basic grasp of each other’s rhythms and idiosyncrasies. Going to bed that night in his new room, just next to Elsie’s, Idris had glowed with joy and pride.

Early in the morning, however, long before the sun had even brushed the horizon, he and his master had been summoned to the High Council Chamber. They had a mission.

Travelling by private shuttle to a Republic Naval Base, where they had boarded a colossal battle cruiser. Idris, having not left the Temple since his arrival on Coruscant from Naboo, had been amazed at the sheer size and solidarity of the ship, but as he had ascended the ramp towards the durasteel superstructure, however, he had reached out and touched the cold metal, and suddenly experienced a thrill of terror at the idea of this metal box which was intended to hurtle them through the cold, lifeless void of space. Looking up at his master, he had taken a deep breath, and stepped inside. There is no emotion, there is peace.

The voyage had been long, and tense, but eventually the ship had arrived in orbit around Rhen Var – a world almost as frozen and lifeless as the velvet abyss in which it hung. Idris and his master had boarded their shuttle, along with their tiny contingent of soldiers and had hurtled off towards their destination, burning through the upper layers of the planet’s frozen atmosphere.

Suddenly, the craft came to a surprisingly delicate halt, and the door slid open. Elsie leapt from the shuttle, her lightsabre igniting in her hand. Idris followed her, igniting his own weapon, the blue blade ripping through the frozen air. Falling snow sizzled as it came into contact with his sabre. Idris took a deep breath, and prepared to enter battle.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

[Jace]

This was such a miserable place is what Gabriella had thought at first. She decided that it wasn't as bad as she had initially thought. Though that could more than likely be attributed to all the dead Jedi that lay about. She had even encountered a mortally wounded knight on her way up to the temple, that had been a pleasant surprise....for her atleast. That Jedi probably regretted not being killed by his previous opponent. Lets just say that Gabriella wasn't the type to put a person out of their misery.

The temple was something completely different. The place was beyond chaotic. Jedi and Sith battled in every area possible, each of them struggling to survive. Some wore smiles, others only held a stoic expression. They all had so much in common, yet such glaring differences at the same time. It truly would have been a sight to behold for anyone else, but to Gabriella it was just an irritation. She cared nothing for these other people or their struggles. If anything, they were just making things confusing, and she didn't take kindly to that.

The Echani woman turned, ready to head back to the ships when she suddenly stopped. She sensed something, a very strong urge from the Force. Even if she wanted to take a step, she couldn't have, this feeling was too powerful. Gabriella couldn't understand, never having felt such a strong pull from the Force. All she knew was that there was something or someone here who was causing this feeling. She would find whoever it was, kill them, and get off this wretched planet.

[sparrow]

"Sergeant Haviar, form a defensive line. Help get the wounded moved upstairs." If Master Took won the aerial battle, the wounded could be airlifted out from the roof to the Temple. Hopefully they would hold the Temple and it wouldn't have to come to that, but from the way things looked right now, that wasn't something they could count on.

The ground was littered with dead and dying. Jedi, Sith, soldiers from both sides continued fighting even as their comrades fell around them. "Idris," she turned back for a moment to see her padawan catching up, "Stay close to m-" A strong Force grip grabbed her waist, throwing her into a nearby pillar. Pain shot through her back at the point of impact, but she managed to quickly roll to the side as a blood red blade sliced through the air where she had been only a split-second before.

"Hmph. Still have a bit of fight in you," the Cathar woman taunted, raising her blade for another strike. Elsie made no reply as she got back to her feet and parried the strike to the side. A moment of distraction had nearly cost her her life. It would not happen again. But she wasn't the only one who had made a mistake. For the Cathar Sith, taking that moment to mock her moment to mock her opponent had cost her her momentary advantage. And unlike Elsie's mistake, hers would be fatal.

Sway like the reed. Elsie's body bent backwards as her opponent's lightsaber made a horizontal slice through the air. Flow like water. She feinted with a strike towards the shoulder, while smoothly stepping to the side, around the Sith. A flick and turn of the wrist, and the blade had spun down to the other side, tip slicing through the tendon behind the knee. The Sith gave a scream as her footing suddenly collapsed. Strike like lightning. Elsie's lightsaber spun back around, up and over. The beam of brilliant silver light descended from above. Feline head hit the ground, body following a half second later.

One down. Many more to go.

[Makiro]

Idris caught up with his master, just in time to see her thrown heavily against a frozen pillar. Unsure what to do – and probably unable to do it even if he had been sure – Idris watched in horror as a Cathar Sith attacked Elsie with a most un-jedi-like ferocity. Fear shot through him as he realised for the first time how deadly a foe the Sith were; their unbridled emotions acting as highly potent fuel for their raw power and cruelty.

Within seconds, however, the Cathar woman had been slain, her head hewn from her body. Idris stared in awe for a moment, marvelling at his master’s composure and control in the face of death – hers averted, her enemy’s now passed.

Idris felt a sudden niggle in the force – some untaught, instinctive nudge from the cosmos – and he spun around, his short black braid trailing elegantly at the side of his head. As he spun, he brought his blade up in front of him, and deflected a burning hot bolt into a nearby wall, where it left a smouldering hole in the melted ice. A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body as he deflected another bolt, and another. A small smirk crept across his face. He was beginning to enjoy this.

[Jace]

Blaster bolts crisscrossed through the air haphazardly as she strolled through the battle field. Well stroll was a rather casual word for what she was doing. It was more like, dodging and spinning, and occasionally drawing her saber to deflect a bolt. Most of the Jedi and Sith seemed to be quite occupied with one another, so she moved relatively unhindered. Honestly, she didn't even know why she was going this far, all she wanted was to get off this wretched planet. Enjoy a nice meal maybe find a playmate and revel in his screams.

It seemed that she was not going to be able to continue on as she was, for a Jedi seemed to take notice of her presence. He stood directly in her path, lightsaber illuminating his face. The Echani looked left, then right, and then back towards the Jedi. There didn't seem to be any way to avoid this imbecile. Usually she would jump at the chance to kill a Jedi, but this place made her miserable, not to mention this feeling in the Force seemed to sober her. She shook her head, this was getting ridiculous.

"Turn, and head back from whence you came Sith"

"No, I don't think I will do that"

"This is your last chance, you are but a young girl, there is still time to back away from all this" stated the Jedi with genuine concern.

Now she was starting to get a little irritated. Why would she ever want to back away from a life full of glee. She couldn't torture people as a Jedi, so what could the lightside do for her? Gabriella wasn't one of those self important people who had 'fallen' from the light because they got weepy about killing someone. No, she thoroughly enjoyed causing others harm, and no one wants to stop what they enjoy doing.

Gabriella didn't respond with words, she merely drew her lightsaber and charged forward. The Jedi's sigh of resignation was quite visibile to her. She began with a jab, lunging forward, and then bringing the blade back for a horizontal slash. The Jedi managed to deal with both attacks relatively easily, and continued to do so as the battle progressed. They went back and forth, silver met emerald, and the sounds of their clashing was barely audible amongst the sound of war.

If she had to guess, she would say that they were about evenly matched. There was still a sense of urgency from the Force, telling her to move on quickly, she didn't have to be told twice. The Echani began to work her blade furiously, pushing the Jedi back slowly. Then the Jedi was back on the offensive, just as she had planned. He knocked aside her blade leaving her wide open, he stabbed, victory in his eyes. Gabriella's hand was already near her hip, and in a lightning fast motion, she grabbed her second blade igniting it as she drew. The quick draw of her second saber parried the Jedi's strike wide. Her other blade came down in a diagonal arc, slashing the Jedi from left shoulder to right hip.

The Echani was already on the move as the Jedi's body hit the floor. His wasn't the only one too, the floor was littered with bodies from both sides. It was then that Gabriella looked up from the floor and froze. She had thought she was looking into a mirror at first, but that wasn't possible. A girl, in Jedi robes, who looked exactly like her..it wasn't possible. Gabriella tried to move but she couldn't, fixated on this woman before her, this woman who looked so much like her that it couldn't be mere coincidence.

Who is this person.....?

[sparrow]

Elsie smiled slightly when she saw that Idris seemed to be doing well. The boy deflected bolt after bolt, a small smirk on his face as he did so. "Good, Idris. But don't have too much fun. Stay focused." The Republic troops remained on the defense as order, shuttling the wounded away one by one.

Suddenly she felt a shiver run down her spine. Something felt wrong. The Dark Side made this entire place feel wrong, but the dark presence she felt right now somehow felt worse, if that was even possible. Her eyes scanned the room to find the source.

In the distance, another Jedi's body hit the floor, slashed through by the lightsaber. Too many. The killer strode forward, carrying two bright silver sabers. Elsie readied her saber once again, preparing for combat. The Sith stopped, and their eyes met. Silver, just like hers. The girl had silver hair, just like hers. The shape of her face, the slope of her nose,... ears, lips,... everything...

What was going on? Elsie blinked, thinking that something would change when she opened her eyes again. A trick of the eye? Some strange deception made by Sith magic? Did it matter? Whoever this person was, whether this was her true form or not, she had just killed a Jedi, and was a threat. Elsie held her saber in front of her, prepared for an attack.

[Jace]

Who was this woman...?

Gabriella couldn't only stare in a mixture of amazement and disbelief. How could someone possibly look that alike to her without being related. There was no doubt that this was why the Force had pulled her back into the fray, it could be the only reason. That thought actually sent a rare shiver of fear through her body. If the Force drew her here, and this woman looked just like her, then the only possible reason was....

No! She adamantly told herself as she visibly shook her head of the thought.

There was just no way, she had no family, she was alone. On top of all this, she was a Jedi. One who had just raised her lightsaber and looked like she was ready to fight. Now that turned Gabriella's confusion into irritation which quickly transformed to rage. There was no way that she could be related to this person, and the simplest way was to eliminate here existence. The Echani raised both of her lightsabers, igniting them as she did. She would kill this person and get off this damned planet.

The Echani charged forward, her silver saber blazing in the midst of the battle. Her anger was growing and that usually didn't turn out to be a good thing. It usually ended with indiscriminate torture followed but a rather painful death. She closed the distance quickly and brought the saber in her right hand down with a diagonal slash attempting to cut the woman right across her body. Gabriella then followed with a horizontal slash with her left saber, aiming to decapitate the Jedi who looked so like herself.

"Just who the hell are you?!" She practically screamed as she attacked

[Jazen]

Jazen swept the feet out from underneath the soldier that had been trying to gun him down a minute ago, blasting him with a burst of the Force to slam him against a nearby chunk of ice. The blow knocked the soldier out and Jazen wasted little time cleaving his blaster in two. Now, even if the man awoke from his daze, he wouldn't be blasting down anymore Jedi. Panting, Jazen was already bringing his blade back up to counter the random blaster bolts that were flying around the cavern. To avoid catching one of those said bolts in the back, Jazen backed himself against a large ice pillar. His eyes darted all over the battle-filled cavern, half watching the chaos unfold while he searched for that familiar presence that was his master.

Blood dripped across his sight, forcing him to wipe it away to clear his vision. The cut across his head continued to bleed, although it had slowed compared to when he first got it. A brief lull in the chaos around him gave Jazen a chance to reach out in the Force for Locke, to find him somewhere in that chaotic mass reflected in his eyes. He winced and pulled back almost immediately, overwhelmed by the raw emotions spilling out all over the field. Hate festered in every form possible and it didn't just seem to come from the Sith. Nearby Jedi were starting to be affected by the hate, some even starting to release it themselves. Jazen cleared his mind, cleared his thoughts. He found that balance point between light and dark inside him, then tipped it so that the light overpowered the dark. He filled his thoughts with calm, sent relaxing pulses throughout his body. A few moments later, he was ready to continue.

Before he set off again, he reached out with the Force again, ignoring all the hate that poured in because of it. He dug past all the individuals that littered the field, gripping that small line that connected him and Locke. And at the end, he found him. Jazen's eyes darted in the direction he felt his Master in and saw that the fighting between him and that point was relatively weak. Still, that didn't mean the trek would be easy. Groaning, Jazen lifted his weary body and shot off at full speed towards that point, sending his Master a warning in the Force that he was coming. Deflecting the first set of bolts that came his way, Jazen slid under the swing of the first soldier he came across, bisecting his weapon as he did. A swift spin kick to the man's chest knocked him back, leaving Jazen free to continue on to the next troop standing in his way. "I'm coming Master. I could use some help if you came to me instead of away from me.

[Makiro]

Idris whirled around amidst a flurry of blaster bolts, attempting to retain the eye-of-the-storm composure of a Jedi. It was incredibly difficult, however, as there was simply so much going on! Republic and Sith soldiers fired wildly at each other, their vibrant blaster bolts melting small holes in the icy walls, and amidst them, like magnificent ships in an asteroid field, the Jedi and their Dark counterparts duelled fiercely, the colours of their blazing sabres casting an eerie glow about the frigid hallways. Having grown up surrounded by the calm of the Jedi Temple, never experiencing much more than the occasional angry word from an out-of-control youngling, Idris had never imagined such sheer chaos. The carefully ordered and pleasingly predictable Galaxy he had always imagined was being torn to pieces in front of his very eyes – along with, of course, the bodies of countless men and women, all fighting bravely for what they believed in.

Sensing a sudden disturbance in the Force, Idris span around and saw, to his utter confusion, that his Master seemed to be looking into a large mirror. It took the boy a few moments to realise that his Master’s reflection was not, in fact, a reflection and was, in fact, another Echani woman.

Oh! Said Idris out loud, causing a few nearby soldiers to look in his direction.

Is everything alright, Sir? Asked one young Twi’lek.

Yes, thank you. Sorry. I was just… nevermind. Carry on!

The Twi’lek nodded, and turned back to the fight, his blaster rifle tearing the freezing air apart with its brightly-coloured barrage. Idris glanced around him to ensure that the soldiers nearby were not in any immediate danger (apart from the obvious danger posed by the battle raging about them, of course) and faced his Master’s assailant. As he looked upon the Echani woman, he felt the nauseating presence of the Dark Side rolling off her, and had to fight hard to ignore the urge to vomit – this was, he realised, the first time he had sensed the Dark Side for real. It was certainly unmistakable.

Suddenly the Sith struck, and Idris cried out in shock as her silver blade, so like his Master’s own, struck down towards Elsie.

[sparrow]

Logic often said that the simplest explanation was usually the correct one. But in this case, the simplest explanation... ... No, it couldn't be. It had to be something else. No time to ponder now though. The fight had begun.

Backpedaling quickly, she dodged the first strike. "My name is Elsie Therin, Guardian of the Jedi Order," she replied to woman's demand. She shifted her weight as she saw the woman's other hand draw back in preparation for her next attack. As her doppelganger swung her saber, she swung her torso around, launching her body into the air, twisting so that the blade passed underneath her, landing to her opponent's side in one smooth motion.

"I should ask the same of you." Elsie thrust her arm forward, and with a fast wrist movement sent her own silver blade cutting towards the other woman's ankle.